What You Do
by spazmoid
Summary: Drabbly oneshots of Palletshipping and Originalshipping.
1. drabble o1

_When he walks away from you mad..._

_Follow him._

* * *

Red had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He and Green had had a lot of fights, but none as big as this one. He always expected the coy brunet would just come back to taunt him after he had something rude to the green-eyed teen, but no. Something was wrong. Perhaps he had went to far. Perhaps he had even hurt the person he thought of as "that bastard's" feelings. He could not even remember what he said, but he knew he regretted it now. That's why he was chasing the violet sweater that had turnt around from him and ran.

That was why he was chasing Green.

Red found him sitting behind a tree near the river where they had fished so long ago. Red had nearly forgotten about it, about the river, their old friendship. He had even forgotten they wore the same halves of a single Pokeball around their necks. At least... He still wore his despite it being nearly six years since that day. For a moment, he wondered if Green still wore his. The thought crossed his mind, but he quickly pushed it out. Of course not, why would he-

Green was holding the necklace in his hand.

_He was holding it in his hand._

Red stared dumbfounded for a moment, still not making his presence known despite being in the open. If Green was ignoring him, he did not mind. The expression on his face must have been what Green was talking about in all those teasings of "stop making those idiotic faces, stupid." Still, it was there, and _it _was there. The necklace. The symbol of a friendship he had thought died, and the beginning of a rivalry he had thought would never end.

Red could not feel it now.

He could not feel the rivalry, the feelings of heated tension between them. He felt something, but he could not place it. He racked his mind, but could only come up with one word to explain his conflictions.

Guilt. He felt guilt. Guilt for hurting feelings he did not think could be hurt. Guilt for tossing away something they had built only to tear it back down. Guilt for never seeing that Green was lonely, always was despite the exterior he wore of always being "the best." Red should have known that Green might have been amazing with a Pokeball, but his attitude would keep him from making too many good friends (if any at all).

By the time Red placed the feeling, Green had begun to cry. Red had not noticed it before, but tears had begun to slip down Green's face one at a time before the brunet had his face in his legs, and his body was shaking slightly. Right then, Red remembered what he had said.

_"You're just mad because you're stuck by yourself even with all your fancy stupid badges!"_

The remark had seemed so small at the time, so meaningless like any other of their cutting jabs and taunting words they had tossed back and forth over the years. Apparently this one however, had cut too close to home (heart). Green had found the news disturbingly true, and it had ate him until he could only run away. He could not face it. In the last few years, he had dated repeatedly only to find out the girls wanted nothing more than a part of his fame, his glory. Nothing more. Never anything more.

And it was all just so _damn_ heartbreaking. So damn tiring. Green was tired of fighting, of badges, of empty winnings. It was just that the wins and the momentary feeling of golden victory was all he had. It was all he had, and he could feel it washing into the river as the years went by, as his heart decided it did not want to play his silly little games anymore. He was tired, his heart was tired, everything was tired and old and done before. Now he could only look forward to seeing Red, to arguing with him. It was one thing he still had to hang onto before he just began falling. He would fall, he just knew it. He was already teetering on the edge holding a ridiculous old necklace in his hand, clutching on it for dear life practically, and crying over everything he never had and knew he never would. He was breaking, he was crumbling, he was everything he had-wanted and now-never wanted to be.

The only thing that startled him from his own self-pity was a hand on his shoulder and then oh-so-brown eyes you could just drown in. In fact, Green thought he was. Drowning that is. He was drowning in deep dark pools of chocolate brown. He wanted to ask what Red was doing, why was he here. He wanted to tell him to go away (to stay), but his lips refused to part. Perhaps they were tired of screaming muffled wails.

"Green...," and that was all Red had managed to get out before he was wrapped in a hug, in an embrace. His voice stopped short as he felt the arms around his shoulders, the head buried in his neck. He could not breathe, his lungs had forgotten how. The only way he knew he was alive was the sudden rapid beating of his heart. It was thundering loud, and he was oh-so-certain Green could hear it with how close they were. He could feel hot air on his neck to prove Green was not suffering from the same thing as him. In fact, Green seemed rather calm, stiff maybe, but calm. His breathing had slowed despite being still ragged as if worn out from screaming (or crying. Green always had been a silent screamer).

"I refuse to let you go. You will never fucking leave me. Ever," Green whispered muffled into the cloth of Red's jacket. "You can hate me. Sure. I don't care, but you can't just go out of my life as you please. I will fucking follow you wherever you go. I will follow your stupid laughter, and your stupid voice, and the stupid impact you make on anyone anywhere you go. I will not allow you to disappear. I. Will. Not," Green said still in his steady whisper that ran out of words near the end. Red swore he could feel dampness on his shoulder, but he could just blame the river for getting him wet.

Red choked on the silence until his lungs found air to breathe and his mouth found a way to move. "Okay."

And that seemed to be all that Green needed.

* * *

_(Promise me forever.)_


	2. drabble o2

_When he stares at your mouth..._

_Kiss him._

* * *

They had been watching a film together. Green had been complaining of Red's "just awful, stupid taste" in films during a majority of the flick. Red was pretty sure he did not even have any idea what was happening plotwise at all. He was merely just complaining to complain (like the asshole he was and always had been).

At some point although, he managed to run out of insults (about how people could not act, could overact, were pretenders in a pointless plot just trying to get by), and now was watching it with bored eyes that slowly slid closed. His breath slowed and head lopped to the side. Then there was the soft pressure of another person on Red (on his legs and lap) when Green finally succumbed completely to his drowsiness and leant over for something to lean on not caring what, or who, it just happened to be. His hair had fallen in his face (not that it was that nicely fixed. Green claimed to have the best damn fucking hairstyle when all he really did was wake up and toss water and a comb on it). The soft brown fell past his closed eyes and even over his slightly parted mouth. His breath was still even (like the peaceful expression on his face that he never seemed to wear when he was awake).

Then there was the urge. Red felt it when he took a glance at the features. It was an urge to brush the hair out of his eyes, to touch his cheek and see if he would feel it. Where it came from, Red did not really know, but it was there. It was temptation, pure and simple. It was irresistable to pass, pure and simple. That was why his fingers carressed the cheek in his lap, touched the soft slightly tan skin that reminded him that Summer was almost gone, and soon they would be back to their old routine of fighting, argueing, and doing it again. They would follow the pattern like always, but what Red was about to do would change everything (his habits, his routine, his heart).

Green slid his eyes open at the touch. He stared at Red for awhile, for a moment wondering where he was, what he was doing. Even when he did, he did not seem to move. Red's eyes were still trained on his face, his hand frozen partway in brushing his hair back. It seemed as if he was stuck, unable to move from Green's curious (surprised?) gaze. The grass-green eyes seemed to pull him. They drew him in until he found his lips brushing Green's, until he could taste the popcorn salt and butter that still lingered on Green's lips. He was so close now he could smell Green's scent (like grass and cologne and Green).

When he broke it, Green was staring at Red with his eyes even wider than before. It was the rare occasion when the light brunet was quiet with nothing to say. "You just kissed me," he said after a long silence (well, long for Green). The statement seemed neithre like a question or an accusation, it was merely just there. "You just kissed me," he said repeating it once again. He sat up this time, a finger on his lips as if to make sure it had really happened. He mumbled something, but it was incoherent (perhaps it was nothing at all). He was not looking at Red as he pushed another statement from his mouth. "Was the movie that boring?"

There was a smile. Red stared at it surprised. It was in Green's character to make a joke in the circumstances, maybe a smirk to top it off, but the smile. The smile was what got Red. Green rarely showed a real smile that was not merely just a show of victory, scorn, reprimanding... Anything but the happy and nervous smile Red saw then (and believe, Red knew all of Green's smiles). This was a foreign type of smile Red had not ever seen on Green's face.

He decided to just go along with it.

"I guess it was," Red stated a small smile already pulling at the corners of his mouth. There was still the nervousness there that Green would run away or punch him any second, any moment, but there was also a churning in his stomach, a slight increase of his heartbeat that he could not just ignore. "I guess I should change it now," he said looking at his own hand as he said it. He could not look away from Green even if Green was not staring at him back. The other teenager's bowed head did not even attempt to move up, but Red saw his hand move, creeping to the noirette's lap to clasp his hand.

Grass to dirt, green to brown. Their eyes met when Green finally lifted his head, that small genuine smile still on his face.

"I guess we can keep it on."


End file.
